Heather stands and slips away her robe. Yes, she is without a covering and my heart pounds in gazing at her pulchritude. As always, it is a thrill, but not the same libidinous thrill before she castrated me. It is more that of a lonely toddler greeting a long absent mother.
Heather smiles, noting my reaction – not so much one of lust – but of envy and adoration. She is whole, intact, able to orgasm, able revel in her sexuality. I cannot. And I detect the fragrance of feminine s****l arousal... m**********g Luke has been stimulating for her. And I suppose having me kneeling in nakedness, altered at her whim, also brings excitement to a woman of Heather’s penchant.
She approaches, stoops and fondles my empty scrotum with a grin. Her touch there is rare and oddly appreciated. Then she unrav
